


Indigo Child

by BigBoyParty



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: (weed), Aliens, Conspiracy Theories, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Grinding, Jisung's missing half an ear, Kissing in the pool, M/M, Non-Graphic Descriptions of Child Neglect, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Recreational Drug Use, Virginity, changbin sweet rich boy, jisung conspiracy theorist, jisung weed dealer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:01:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24824977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigBoyParty/pseuds/BigBoyParty
Summary: “Do you even believe what they’re saying out there?” Jisung had furiously mumbled under his breath, pressing a little baggie into Changbin’s soft palm and waiting for his Venmo payment to roll in.“Of course not,” one of Changbin’s friends had scoffed, but Jisung was surprised when he looked up and saw Changbin’s kind eyes staring into his own, smiling gently.“Do you want to come explain it to us?”---When Changbin buys weed off of Jisung at an alien conspiracy conference, he isn't expecting to make a friend. He certainly doesn't plan on falling in love either, but plans change and Jisung is full of unexpected delights.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Seo Changbin
Comments: 21
Kudos: 226





	Indigo Child

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! Here's a nice fic to honor how in Love with binsung I am. There's some emotional moments, but nothing too triggering! Enjoy.

Jisung moved like a lizard, with one clipped ear like a stray cat. He was an amalgamation of strange mannerisms, picking his nails, biting the inside of his mouth, jutting his neck in and out trying to correct an old ache. When no one was looking, he took the wooden alien necklace that hung at his chest and slipped it into his mouth. The wood was smooth and warm. It tasted like old spit.

He and Changbin were unlikely friends. They met at Contact, the biggest alien conspiracy convention in Arizona. Changbin was there on a whim with some rich friends, smoking weed behind the convention center and heckling the speakers when they said something particularly outlandish on a panel. They’d tried to buy weed from Jisung the second night of the conference, jittering and quiet in the hall.

“Do you even believe what they’re saying out there?” Jisung had furiously mumbled under his breath, pressing a little baggie into Changbin’s soft palm and waiting for his Venmo payment to roll in.

“Of course not,” one of Changbin’s friends had scoffed, but Jisung was surprised when he looked up and saw Changbin’s kind eyes staring into his own, smiling gently.

“Do you want to come explain it to us?”

By the end of that night, Changbin still wasn’t convinced, but he was amazed. The rest of his friends had gone out to prowl around the hotel looking for trouble, leaving Changbin and Jisung flat on their backs on adjacent queen-sized beds, staring into the eye of the ceiling lamp.

“I guess it comes down to belief,” Jisung mumbled, his mouth dry and eyes a deep red, “There’s no way anyone can prove what these people are saying. So do you dismiss people, or do you believe them, even when what they’re saying seems absolutely insane?” Changbin looked at the boy on the bed next to them, tan and crooked, and the boy looked back, “Do you think people generally tend towards telling the truth?”

Changbin considered it. He spoke to the mole on Jisung’s cheek, “No, probably not.”

“Huh.” Jisung turned away from him again, eying the strange texture of the ceiling. He asked, “Do you want to smoke a little more?” And this time Changbin’s answer came easy,

“Sure.”

Now, months later, Changbin still bought weed from Jisung. It wasn’t the best weed. Jisung grew it in his windowsill, and it was always mostly stems. Tough and sprawling, like Jisung himself. It didn’t get Changbin Crazy High, but lately Changbin hadn’t wanted to get Crazy High anyway. Lately, he’d wanted to sit out on his patio and watch his pool lights shift with the jittering boy by his side.

“I wish I had a pool,” Jisung murmured. The pale blue light animated across his face, a silent dance. 

“Yeah?” Changbin prompted. He’d picked up the habit of making little comments like that, encouragements so the words didn’t die in Jisung’s chest.

“Yeah. I think it would be kind of nice, just sitting here. Good for thinking or whatever... Can’t swim though.” Jisung took a long pull and handed the joint back to Changbin, “I never been to the beach either.”

“Why not?” 

Jisung shrugged, “Just never been.”

Later that night, they put the roach on a damp leaf, still burning, and floated it out across the pool. A Viking funeral. Jisung played old psychedelic rock off his phone and Changbin changed the color of the led pool lights with the beat. They fell asleep with their backs to the pavement, searching the horizon for ufos and the bottom of the pool for concrete treasures. 

Jisung was missing about a half an ear. Changbin always told him it reminded him of a street cat. When he used to volunteer for a trap, neuter, return program he swore he saw up to 100 of them. Rowdy brown kittens with dirty white paws and their left ear clipped right after their balls. “Woww,” Jisung groaned once after Changbin said it, “A neutered kitten. Sick.”

But Changbin didn’t mean it like that. Changbin meant Jisung was scrappy, which might have been just as patronizing. The dealer had lost his ear after a friend pierced it poorly in their highschool bathroom, skipping gym class. It was infected for months afterwards, slowly growing purpler and purpler, until Jisung fell sick and had to get the corner of his ear taken off entirely. Now he swore it played into an asymmetry in his face Changbin could never spot, but Changbin said it was cute. Rough-and-tumble. Besides, the scar was smooth now, if you glanced briefly you might even think Jisung just had one oddly-shaped ear. “Lots of people have weird looking ears,” Changbin commented, and Jisung seemed insulted, but still laughed.

Jisung liked that Changbin had a roof they could sit on. Jisung lived in a mobile home. Him and his mother, who worked nights at a reptile house and slept through most of the day. He couldn’t climb out of the window and end up anywhere but beside his house, so at Changbin’s, it felt magical. He’d kick his shoes off. Changbin showed him how to unlatch the screen, setting it down inside and climbing out onto the hot rooftop. Jisung liked that it was warm on the soles of his feet, like some massive suburban animal. “Do you think that things have feelings?” he asked one night, tapping the ash from his joint and watching it roll off the ledge of the roof.

“Things?” Changbin prompted. Jisung breathed in the stars,

“Yeah, things. Like, I don't know, how about plants?” Changbin took the joint from Jisung and took a hit. He held the smoke in until he could come up with a suitable answer:

“Yeah. I think plants have feelings, why not?” Changbin wanted to hold Jisung’s smile forever, warm and fragile in his cupped hands.

“What about rooftops?”

Jisung was full of questions like this. It was what always left Changbin amazed, though he guessed now that it was only one of many things. It always brought Changbin back to that first night in their overpriced hotel room, smelling the chlorinated sheets and chewing over the conspiracies of the day.

“So why are you here if you don't believe any of it?” Jisung had asked, sitting cross-legged on the floor and rolling up another joint, “Just to laugh?”

“I mean,” Changbin struggled for the words. He was fascinated by the boy he just met, and he didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but Jisung was silent until Changbin gave him an honest answer, “We just thought it would be fun. I think we wanted to laugh a little, yeah, but we thought it could be kind of interesting too. I don't know.” 

“I didn’t ask why your friends wanted to be here.” Jisung sealed the joint with the tip of his tongue and lit it, rolling it meticulously between two fingers, “Why are you here?” He’d glanced up, eyes sparking, “Changbin, right?”

Changbin never knew what to do with Jisung’s questions. Sometimes, it seemed Jisung was looking for a certain answer, but mostly he just asked. Changbin figured Jisung knew the world by asking, knew other people like that. Jisung didn’t get hints, he just asked, and sometimes when Changbin was lucky, he’d receive a little morsel of information on Jisung’s own life as a reward for good answers. Like that first night:

“I come here every year. I work, and I save up for a ticket, and I come here. My dad was abducted once. He used to talk about it a lot...” Jisung always fidgeted with that wooden alien head necklace like he had been born with it around his neck, “I think I like believing in people, so this is where I go.”

Changbin swore he saw tapestries in the shadows behind Jisung’s head.

In Changbin, Jisung saw the pool. He felt the deep softness of Changbin’s palm. One night, he showed Changbin how to sprout marijuana seeds in a damp paper towel. It was easy, really, but something about it seemed special when he guided Changbin’s hands through the motions. “Not too wet, just enough to keep them comfortable,” he explained, placing his hands gently on the outside of Changbin’s own and folding the towel around their three tan seeds. Changbin’s hands were warm and pale and soft. Jisung ran his thumbs over the outside of them and smiled. Clean.

In the days afterwards, Changbin updated Jisung almost every day. Jisung curled up in his bed, unmade and dirty after work, and texted his new friend. “They’re starting to open!!” Changbin would send, with far too many emojis and a picture of the brown seeds cracking. The three seeds split down the middle, then sprouted, until they looked like little tan heads with smiling mouths and long whitish-green tongues. Changbin was too afraid to grow them in his mother’s house, so he gave them back for Jisung to grow on his windowsill at home. When they smoked the plants that grew from them months later, Changbin said they were “burning their babies” and Jisung laughed so hard he almost fell in the pool.

Tonight, it was painfully hot out, and dry. It had gotten up to 120 during the day, so the black rooftop still burned the bottoms of Jisung’s feet. He didn’t mind it. His toes curled on the shingles, one hand toying with his necklace while the other supported his weight. Tonight, Changbin was talking about his summer courses for grad school. Jisung was listening, but mostly he was staring at the fold of skin between Changbin’s jaw and his neck. There was some sweat there, glimmering. When Changbin passed him the joint, Jisung took a long pull and watched the stars go blurry. 

“Do you think the universe loves us?” Jisung asked. Changbin let out one quiet laugh,

“I don't think the universe loves anyone. I think stuff just happens and then we deal with it.”

Jisung took another hit, holding it until his lungs burned and thickened with ash. “Is it scary?” Jisung asked, his eyes flicking over Changbin’s smooth skin, “Thinking like that?”

Changbin shrugged, “Not really. I think it’s easier for me to come to terms with the scary stuff when I tell myself it’s all random. I don't want to feel like there’s some god out there deciding whether I’m worthy or not.” Jisung handed the joint back to Changbin and, along the way, took hold of Changbin’s hand. Changbin’s fingers were soft and sweaty, and Jisung laced his own easily in between them. When he laid flat against the rooftop, something warm traveled up Jisung’s arm from Changbin’s sweaty palm. Something shimmering. Jisung breathed.

“Before my dad died, he was in the hospital for three months.” Jisung felt Changbin squeeze his palm, a small nurture. He scrunched his neck up and kept talking, “I have a few memories from right before he left. My mom would come home from work in the middle of the night and find me hiding under my bed, so they couldn’t find me, or both of us under the kitchen table. He’d hold my head to his chest and scream, beg for them to stop tracking us. But really there weren’t many days like that. Mostly I remember when I was younger. We used to lay out on the lawn, when we had one. He’d put his big jacket down for us and we’d watch the night sky for UFOs. One night, I told him it looked like the moon was smiling. He called me an indigo child.”

Changbin rolled onto his side a little, letting his arm lock in with Jisung’s. “That’s beautiful,” he murmured, and he meant it. Jisung just nodded, chewing on the inside of his mouth. “How did your dad die?” Changbin asked. He ran his thumb over one of Jisung’s dirty fingernails, waiting for a response.

“Car accident.” Jisung took the joint back, inhaling until his body seemed to hover off the hot roofing, “He was hit by a freight truck on his first day back from the hospital. Rolled on the highway. Supposedly, he was just starting to feel a lot better.” Jisung smiled a sad, dry smile, and ashed their joint. “I don't think I’m brave enough to believe things happen randomly, Changbin. Everything makes too much sense.”

Changbin and Jisung held hands and watched the stars together.

They say if the visibility is right, you can see a shooting star every three minutes. Changbin couldn’t see any tonight, but he wished anyway. Jisung threw an arm up lazily and pointed out a constellation with the glowing tip of the roach. Later, he asked,

“Changbin?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you show me how to float in the pool?’

Jisung hadn’t brought a bathing suit, so he stripped down to his underwear, necklace banging against his chest, and Changbin did the same. The shorter man was in the water first, comfortably hoisting himself off of the ledge and standing at the shallow end, arms outstretched. He couldn’t ignore how nervous Jisung looked. Jisung had his arms crossed over his chest, tugging at his necklace, as he stepped delicately into the water.

“It’s warm,” Jisung remarked, and Changbin laughed,

“Yeah, it’s heated!” Changbin pulled a leaf out of the water and sent it slapping onto the pavement beside the pool.

“Ooh, fancy,” Jisung joked, the shaking in his voice betraying his anxiety.

Jisung’s nerves loosened in stages. First he let the water come up above his nipples, his feet flat on the floor, remembering to breathe deep and slow. And then Changbin took both his hands. Changbin’s fingertips had grown a little wrinkly, somehow drier-feeling after their time in the chlorinated water. Changbin hooked his soft arms under Jisung’s torso, letting the younger dip onto his back. Jisung’s feet left the ground. Floating. Changbin held him gently, Jisung resting in his hands like a twisted branch of driftwood. 

Jisung in his underwear looked exactly like Changbin had imagined. He was fragile and crooked, every ridge of spine pressing into Changbin’s palms. He was evenly tan, the kind that one was born with, and his stomach was smooth and soft. Changbin couldn’t stop looking, his eyes soaking up the little acne scars on Jisung’s chest, some patches of poorly-shaven hair under his jaw. There was a green halo around Jisung’s hair from the pool’s light, and he looked uncharacteristically peaceful.

“It’s nice...” Jisung commented, sighing and letting his feet drift as Changbin piloted him around. Changbin’s fingertips scratched at his ribs, and Jisung giggled. Changbin’s skin was all blue underwater. He looked up at Changbin’s kind, round face. “Has anyone ever told you you looked like the moon?” 

Changbin laughed and rolled his eyes, “Why, because I’m round?”

“Noo...” Jisung smiled a lizard’s smile, “Because you’re beautiful.”

After a while, Changbin and Jisung decided he should try floating on his own. It was a gentle release, Changbin ducking under the water and paddling away, cutting Jisung adrift. Jisung felt Changbin dropping away beneath him and for a few brief, delicious seconds, he was floating. It was as if every system in his body had paused, and he was converted. A quiet raft for the little alien who always sat there on his chest. 

It was a tranquil moment, before Jisung was sinking again, rippling the water. Changbin moved in so fast, Jisung barely had time to panic. Instead, he let Changbin hold him up in his embrace, no longer floating but still buoyant all the same. He let his stomach press warm against Changbin’s, and then his lips, without thinking. Changbin was soft and warm, like always, and Jisung let his wet hands glide up to cup Changbin’s cheeks. When they parted, there was a silent moment. Changbin’s smile was the most beautiful thing in the world. Jisung’s smile was too.

“Gotcha,” Changbin murmured, and Jisung giggled. He kissed Changbin again, quick, then clung to him. His whole body wrapped tight around Changbin’s warmth like a koala bear. He scattered kisses along Changbin’s shoulder, smelling chlorine, and mumbled into his skin,

“Can I sleep here tonight?”

“Of course.”

Jisung couldn’t stop kissing Changbin. It was like putting the necklace in his mouth. Again and again, he pressed his lips to Changbin’s own and took in the secret warmth of his tongue. Changbin spun him slowly in the water, and he kissed him. Changbin slid him up on the ledge of the pool, and he kissed him. Changbin wrapped his shoulders in a gaudy pink beach towel and he kissed him, kissed him twice before he slipped back into the water.

“I want to wake up next to you,” Jisung spoke slowly, his feet dangling in the water and thumbs tracing over Changbin’s wet forehead, squeezing the pool water from his eyebrows, “And in the morning, I want you to roll over and kiss me, and I want to have sex with you.” Jisung’s voice was somehow comforting and awkward at once. It kept Changbin warm. He even blushed, kicking his feet to keep himself afloat and hanging onto Jisung’s calves where they dipped into the pool. “Is that okay?” Jisung asked, and Changbin smiled,

“That sounds perfect.”

When Changbin’s hands had finished memorizing the texture of Jisung’s thighs, and he got too cold and tired to be swimming anymore, the two of them wrapped themselves up in towels and slapped barefooted up to the house. They stood in their underwear for a while, shivering in the kitchen, and fished in Changbin’s weird walk-in pantry for snacks. Changbin poured them both a bowl of sugary cereal. Jisung ate his dry, and watched Changbin fill his bowl with milk and squish the cereal around with his spoon until it converged into one sludgy mass. The milk dripped down his chin when he ate, and Jisung smiled at it.

They still smelled like chlorine when they climbed into bed. Jisung settled into the crook of Changbin’s neck, nuzzling the soft edge of Changbin’s jaw and letting their legs get all tangled up. Changbin combed his fingers through Jisungs hair. He let one thumb caress the smooth scar where Jisung’s ear had been clipped. 

It wasn’t clear who fell asleep first, but Jisung knew when he woke up in the middle of the night, like he always did, he’d hear Changbin snoring peacefully and find a friendly moon in the window. He smiled at it, ran his hand over Changbin’s sweaty back, and fell back into his dreams. Peaceful ones. He had the luxury of not remembering them.

Changbin awoke to the sight of Jisung drooling onto the pillow, his wooden alien necklace wedged all the way into his mouth. It didn’t take long for Jisung to wake up too, pulling the necklace from his mouth and meeting Changbin’s eyes, blinking.

Jisung’s lips curled into a smile when Changbin climbed on top of him and pressed their mouths together. There was a long slow exhale, morning breath and Changbin’s elbows compressing the mattress to either side of Jisung’s body. Jisung ran his hands up Changbin’s arms, squeezing his thick biceps. Changbin’s skin was clean and smooth and warm. His soft lips enveloped Jisung’s own and Jisung was gloriously awake.

“Good morning,” Changbin murmured. Jisung’s eyes were wide and sparkling beneath him, with dark circles underneath them and a pool of dried drool flaking on his cheek. Changbin licked his thumb and wiped it away, earning himself another smile.

“Do you remember your dreams?” Jisung mumbled, half-awake and already full of questions.

“Sometimes,” Changbin tucked a kiss under the outer edge of Jisung’s jaw, where his stubble was uneven and he smelled like sweat and oil, “Do you remember what you wanted last night?”

“Of course.”

Jisung’s heart was beating faster than it had in a while. It used to beat like this when his father had him hide in the refrigerator, his small limbs tucked around himself as he watched his fingers turn purple and listened to his father tearing the house apart in search of listening devices. This kind of beating was different, warmer, but he shivered all the same. When Changbin kissed and sucked at his neck, his fingers twitched and legs shifted slightly.

Changbin had given them both a pair of his old shorts to sleep in. They were loose on Jisung’s hips, easy to slip off so he could feel exhilarated and exposed, even under the covers. Jisung let his fingertips slip down Changbin’s back, squeezing his butt. He got to feel Changbin naked before he saw what he looked like. His stomach was warm and soft, little hairs on his thighs and butt ruffling under Jisung’s fingertips. Changbin was still hovering over Jisung a little, up on his elbows and knees as he littered kisses over Jisung’s neck and shoulder. Jisung wanted him closer, so he pressed his palms flat to Changbin’s back and pulled the elder crumbling down on top of him.

Changbin was a comfortable weight, pressing all the shudders out of Jisung’s ribcage. Jisung held him tight, clinging with all his limbs around him. He kissed Changbin’s neck and murmured in his ear, “I’ve never done this before.”

Changbin smiled. “That’s okay. We can go as slow as you like.”

Jisung’s hair kind of smelled like french fries. Changbin leaned into his clipped ear and traced his tongue along the scar, pulling a whimper from the back of Jisung’s throat.

When Jisung was a child, and he still believed the government had bugged his house after his father’s abduction, he would only masturbate under the bed. It was an anxious affair. Heart racing, dust flying up in his eyes as he tried to rub one out before some grey-skinned humanoid or strange man in a suit gunned him down. Changbin had an 8 year romance with a stuffed rabbit that grew slowly less white over the years, followed by several unfulfilling affairs with women. 

For both of them, this was different. Hot and exciting and safe, in a clean bed with the door locked.

Changbin slid out of Jisung’s grasp and onto his knees, letting the blankets slip off of his shoulders. Kneeling over Jisung, with red marks forming down one side of his neck and his cock half-hard in his hand, Changbin was godlike. Jisung swore he was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He still had that kind smile, but something else too, his eyes running over Jisung’s body in some way that made Jisung’s heart race. His palm pressed flat to Jisung’s sternum, then roamed over his chest, fingers brushing at Jisung’s nipples and ribs. Jisung’s mouth hung open and he couldn’t imagine closing it. 

Changbin decided to close Jisung’s mouth with his own instead. He leaned in, soaking up the texture of Jisung’s skin for as long as he could before his eyes were closing again and he was sucking Jisung’s bottom lip into his mouth, biting down gently. Jisung moaned sweetly and squeezed his ass, grinding up against him and feeling the way their cocks grew hard against each other.

Jisung whined when Changbin’s lips left his own, but then Changbin was moving lower. He looked up at Jisung with this incredulous smile, crawling slowly backwards as he left kisses in his trail. One for each of Jisung’s awkward jutting ribs, one for every blemish on his chest, one for each random wiry hair jutting out around Jisung’s nipples or reaching towards his belly button. Changbin kissed Jisung’s hip, then gently sucked the skin into his mouth. It was greasy and delicious. Changbin gathered Jisung’s sweat on his tongue until one of Jisung’s hands found its way into his hair.

Jisung liked having something to do with his hands, and when Changbin finally wrapped those soft lips around his hardening cock, he Needed something to do with them. He troubled himself with running his fingertips over Changbin’s scalp, the bristling texture where Changbin’s hair was shortest seemed like the only thing keeping him sane. It felt fucking amazing. Changbin’s mouth was warm and wet and he drooled excessively, wrapping one fist around Jisung’s shaft and jerking him off firmly where his mouth couldn’t reach. Everytime Jisung lost control and let out some ear-splitting moan, Changbin would pause, pulling his lips from the head of Jisung’s cock and sucking on his balls instead, holding Jisung still in his grip.

“Does that feel good?” Changbin asked with a smile, his tongue sneaking out to tease the end of Jisung’s dick. He didn’t need an answer, really. Jisung was a mess under him, sweating and trembling with his hands making crazy, roving patterns in Changbin’s hair. Crop circles.

“Yeah-” the word caught in Jisung’s throat, gurgling a little, as Changbin took him just a little bit deeper, so his upper lip met the edge of his small fist. “-Fuck.”

Changbin pulled off and admired his work. Jisung’s legs were spread slightly, his cock desperately hard and leaking against his stomach. He ran his palms over Jisung’s trembling thighs, then flopped down on the bed beside him, pulling Jisung into another kiss.

“Touch me,” Changbin murmured, watching Jisung’s eyes. Jisung’s fingers were twitchy, running down the back of Changbin’s neck and over his chest. Jisung pinched Changbin’s nipple a little, watching the flush rise in Changbin’s cheeks, before letting himself wander over the rest of Changbin’s body. He wedged his thumb into Changbin’s armpit and felt the sweat and hair. Ran his fingertips down Changbin’s back and scratched him experimentally, squeezed his ass again. Jisung snuck his arm between their bodies and grabbed Changbin’s cock. It was small and kind of soft in Jisung’s palm. He squeezed it, ran his thumb over the head, pushed his hand back and caressed the other’s balls. 

Changbin’s arms were strong. When he wrapped them around Jisung’s back, he pulled the younger’s entire body closer to himself. He pinned the two of them together, their legs tangling as he grabbed Jisung’s ass and ground their cocks against each other. It wasn’t what Jisung usually thought of when he imagined sex, there was no screaming or pounding or sobbing, but somehow it was better than all that. It was just Changbin holding him tight, pressing all the tension out of him and panting against his neck. Beautiful Changbin. His moon.

Jisung was surprised by how quickly he came. It didn’t take much from Changbin, just a particularly hard squeeze, one hand reaching back so he could cautiously press a fingertip against Jisung’s hole. When Changbin held him tight enough, Jisung’s vision went all spotty and he fell limp in Changbin’s arms. This was the best part, when everything in him halted and for one brief moment he wasn’t thinking so much. For once, Jisung wasn’t a thousand miles away, he was right there: Changbin was grunting in his ear, grinding their cocks against each other, kissing his neck. All Jisung could think about was the hot breath on his throat and the feeling of skin on skin, and when he came he was suspended in a cocoon of complete elation, vulnerability, and absolute helplessness.

Changbin had never seen Jisung so still, or so happy. The younger was now flopped back on the bed, his eyes closed and a gentle smile playing across his lips. Changbin ran his fingers down Jisung’s forearm and watched his hand curl and uncurl unconsciously. He ran his hand over Jisung’s stomach again, through the mess of their cum pooling there, and gently pressed down on him. Jisung’s smile only grew wider.

“Let’s sleep a little longer,” Changbin offered at the end of a kiss. Jisung just smiled and nodded, pulling Changbin on top of him like one sprawling, heavy blanket. Jisung slipped off into shallow breaths and gentle snores.

Changbin wasn’t sure if he ever fully fell asleep, but somewhere between dreaming and imagining he stared at Jisung’s eyelashes and pictured the two of them together. They floated on their backs in a warm pool, the stars stretched out before them like a map.

Later that same day, showered and fed in a borrowed pair of Changbin’s underwear, Jisung started his car up. He held Changbin’s hands through the rolled-down window and kissed his knuckles. “Will you come to Contact with me this year?” Jisung smiled his lizard smile and bent his neck back, cracking it, “I’ve been saving up for two tickets.”

Changbin said yes, because of course he did, and Jisung made his way home blushing and chewing on his lips.

At home, Jisung spread out on his bed in one of his dad’s old “NASA LIES” t-shirts and no pants. There was no air conditioning in his room, so he laid on top of the bed sheets in a pool of sweat and black cotton. Jisung was holding Changbin’s underwear balled up in one fist. He still got nervous when he saw a satellite drifting above the weed plants in his window, but tonight he touched himself slowly. Jisung sucked on his necklace and ran his fingertips gently over his inner thighs or the little bruise on his left hip, imagining the smell of Changbin’s skin. 

With his eyes closed, Jisung lifted his shirt up halfway and exposed his belly to the stars.

**Author's Note:**

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